


Under Lock and Key

by purplespeartip



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftercare, Chastity Belt, M/M, Milking, Praise Kink, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplespeartip/pseuds/purplespeartip
Summary: Being crown prince means losing certain freedoms. Noct doesn't get to choose what he eats, or where he goes, or even when he gets to come. Luckily for Noct, Ignis is always on hand to assist him with this particular royal duty.





	Under Lock and Key

Noct shifted uncomfortably in his chair, watching the clock and willing the second hand to tick faster. The meeting was almost over, but it had dragged out now for over three hours, and he was about ready to explode. The metal of his belt was digging in, and it felt all the worse for knowing that it was only minutes until he’d be freed.

Across the table, Ignis was watching him with a creased brow, though Noct refused to let his advisor catch his eye. No doubt he should be paying attention, but it was a Friday, and everyone knew Noct’s attention was shot on Fridays – though not everyone knew why.

As the chair, a greying man named Fitzwilliam who spoke like his throat was full of cobwebs, called the meeting to a close, Noct practically leapt out of his seat. Used to the crown prince being obliviously rude, no one commented on it, nor on the fact that he left the room at speed with Ignis, ever apologetic, in tow.

‘Noct, this is really no way to behave. You’re not a boy anymore, they expect a modicum of leadership, or at least decorum,’ Ignis chastised as he followed Noct down the grand corridors of the Citadel, twisting and turning their way to Noct’s room. Not his bedroom – that of course was in the city below, in his apartment, overflowing with old takeaway boxes and other detritus. Noct’s room in the Citadel was for an altogether different purpose than sleeping.

‘You know I can’t handle the boring stuff on Fridays,’ said Noct, not looking back, his gait a little awkward.

‘Alas, in the world of politics, every day is the boring stuff,’ said Ignis, moving ahead with a hand in his pocket, pulling out the chain of keys he kept on his person at all times. When they reached their destination, he unlocked the nondescript door and opened it, stepping aside to let Noct through first, now moving at a near gallop.

Once the door was closed again and locked behind them, Noct began his usual mantra. ‘Take it off, take it off, take it off!’ as he kicked off his shoes and began pulling down his trousers.

‘For heaven’s sake, Noct, be patient,’ said Ignis, looking through his keys for a very small, discreet silver one that fit no door in the Citadel, ‘you do this every time.’

Noct, now down to just his boxers and shirt, and making short work of the former, scowled. ‘You would, if you were stuck with this.’ As he spoke, he pulled off his boxers, revealing beneath them the elaborate metal contraption that held his cock under lock and key – the key that was now in Ignis’s hand.

The arrangement had come about, like all things, because to the world Noct was a prince first and a person second. Concerns about royal lineage, heir legitimacy, all the stuff he just didn’t give two shits about, amounted in restrictions of all kinds. Around girls, he required a chaperone at all times, and even then, there was the fallback. The extreme preventative methods taken to preserve the blessed royal sperm, to prevent him from seeding a legacy of bastards around the city.

It was stupid. It was uncomfortable. But like so many other things, Noct was stuck with it, except for once a week, on Fridays, when Ignis would produce that beautiful little key, free him from his trappings, and he’d be allowed the privilege of knocking one out. Once a week. For a teenager, even one who everyone insisted was a grown man now, it was hell.

‘I’ll have you know my schedule is a chastity belt of its own,’ said Ignis, handing Noct the key, and then taking it back again when Noct fumbled it too many times in his eagerness, deftly unlocking the belt. With a click, the mechanism holding Noct’s cock in place – positioned to piss, and nothing else – came open, and Noct gave a long sigh of relief, pulling the belt off and sitting down on the bed, squeezing and pawing at his neglected penis.

‘Do be quick,’ said Ignis, looking at his watch, ‘we’ve got a dinner to go to at six. Vice Treasurer’s daughter’s birthday.’

‘I do not care,’ said Noct, voice a little breathy as he got onto the bed proper, handing working eagerly to coax his cock to full hardness, ‘I – give – no – fucks.’

‘Clearly,’ Ignis sighed.

This was another part of the deal. It wasn’t enough for Noct to have a special room for the purpose, no, he wasn’t allowed to do it unsupervised. Just on the off chance that he’d hidden some poor girl under the bed, or something ridiculous. But there were no girls here. Just Noct, Ignis, the bed, an ensuite, and a stack of plastic containers for biological waste. It was just the sexiest. 

Ignis watched Noct through necessity, for the most part. Watched him sit back, opening his legs and pulling his hand up his stout little cock, no movement wasted. Once upon a time, perhaps the Noct’s groans or the slapping of skin on skin might have made him blush, but it moved him little now, except maybe to stir something his schedule certainly didn’t allow for in his own boxers.

‘Oh, fuck, yes,’ Noct lay back, pumping his hand harder, rocking his hips into it, ‘Ig, Iggy...’

‘Yes, highness?’ said Ignis.

‘Wanna- give a guy a helping hand, here?’

Not that Noct needed it, of course, but Ignis was still happy to oblige. ‘Where would you like me, highness?’

‘Sit, sit behind me, so I can...’ Noct gestured with his free hand, unwilling to let go with the other one. Ignis followed the motion, getting onto the bed behind Noct and opening his legs so Noct could rest against him, his back pressed to Ignis’s chest, hair tickling his nose. Ignis brought an arm around to hold Noct close to him as his other hand reached down to stroke at the Prince’s cock.

Noct gave a whine and closed his eyes, grinding up against Ignis’s hand, bucking his hips as Ignis picked up the pace, stroking him with the devotion of a man who knew his duty, and perhaps enjoyed it too. Noct could feel that enjoyment pressing into his lower back insistently, but he ignored it – this was about him, this was his time to be selfish, this was his time to-

‘Ah!’

A week of going without of course mean that the first run tended to be over with quickly. Noct’s come, thick and hot, spurted across the sheets, rather than into the required receptacle – those were out of reach with Ignis on the bed too. He felt Ignis huff in annoyance, but was already closing his hand around Ignis’s to prolong the warm sensations melting through his lower body. ‘More... more...’

‘So demanding,’ Ignis murmured, his breath hot on Noct’s neck, but he allowed himself to be guided, Noct’s hand squeezing tight. ‘One down, I suppose...’

That was the other rule. Once a week, Noct got to take off the belt, and see to his needs. But in order to clean house, as it were, he had to see to it until he was drained as dry as possible. Noct didn’t know if this was for his health, or something about protocol, but he did know that it mean pushing himself over and over until he just couldn’t any more.

This was why he hated sitting through boring meetings on Fridays.

‘Highness, let me, you’ll hurt yourself squeezing so hard...’ Ignis gently prised Noct’s fingers away and reset the pace, gentler, but still firm. Noct wriggled a little, pouting in protest.

‘It’s not enough, Iggy... I’m not gonna come from just that...’

‘We’re working up to it,’ said Ignis, thumb sweeping up the underside of Noct’s shaft, tracing the thick vein there, ‘patience, my prince.’

Noct moaned a little at the moniker, lying his head back on Ignis’s shoulder now, turning to press kisses of his own to the other man’s neck. ‘So... good to me...’ he bucked his hips again between the words.

‘You’ve been very patient,’ said Ignis, hastening his strokes a little, ‘every week, you do so well... so well...’

‘Yeah?’ said Noct, breathless.

‘Yes. A fine young man, doing his duty for his country,’ a squeeze, which made Noct yelp, ‘protecting the name of his family... I’m always so... so proud of you...’

Noct was making soft keening sounds now as his second orgasm approached, and Ignis worked him there with a grace not hampered by his prince’s desperation, until more hot white come was dripping down over his fingers, Noct’s face pressed hard into his neck.

‘Do you need a rest?’ Ignis asked, as Noct rocked back and forth against him, reeling a little from the growing intensity. ‘If you need to stop...’

‘No! No, more,’ Noct was gabbling a little, rutting against Ignis’s palm almost animalistically, but then he hissed, the head of his cock too sensitive, his body crying out for a break that he wasn’t going to give it, ‘you might... maybe you need to...’

Ignis nodded, understanding at once, leaning over to reach into the small cupboard that sat by the side of the bed. Inside, gloves, and lubricant. He forewent the gloves; once, maybe, he’d use them, but now he wanted to feel his prince, and he could clean up after.

‘Ah!’ the lube was cold against Noct’s hole, Ignis’s long fingers carefully stretching and probing, his hand angled a little awkwardly as Noct was still sitting with his back against his chest, lifting himself up just a little with his bent knees. 

‘Apologies,’ Ignis murmured, rubbing his fingers together a little to warm the lube, before reapplying them to their task; once he was satisfied Noct was stretched enough to accommodate fingers, in they sank, curling with precise efficiency to press against his prostate.

‘Oh, fuck,’ Noct closed his eyes again, squirming a little, ‘yes, right on there, press it,’ and his own hand came up to stroke his sore cock, just enough to capitalize on the sensations now rolling through him from Ignis’s carefully pressed fingers. ‘Ignis, fuck.’

‘Language,’ said Ignis, ‘but I hear and obey, your highness.’ He crooked his fingers harder, thrusting them in and out with rapid speed, the sound obscene but worth it as Noct’s back began to arch, his own hand motions becoming erratic as he shuddered, losing control, and again he came, this time with a low howl, fingers and toes tingling.

Ignis did not let up. He continued pressing, holding Noct in place with his forearm as he fucked him on his fingers, whispering reassurance into his prince’s ear as Noct whimpered and babbled, eyes a little crossed, fingers hooked around Ignis’s arm. When he came again, it was a dry run, and at last Ignis relented, satisfied that the job was done.

Noct slumped in his arms, and Ignis carefully extricated his fingers, wiping them on the bedspread. ‘Well done, highness,’ he said, breath tickling Noct’s ear, ‘all done for another week.’

Noct made a small, incoherent noise. As gently as he could, Ignis slid out from under him, his own arousal still unattended and now softening in defeat beneath his trousers. Noct’s bones would be like jelly for a while, so Ignis made sure he was positioned comfortably on the bed and went into the en-suite, where he began running a hot bath for his charge. The bedsheets would of course need cleaning at once; he chided himself for not picking up one of the waste cups before climbing onto the bed. Protocol, protocol.

The mirror soon began to steam up, the water running nearly scaldingly hot, just as Noct liked it. Ignis washed his hands thoroughly with soap at the sink, before returning to the bed where Noct was now dozing, slipping in and out of a very satisfied consciousness.

‘Highness,’ said Ignis softly, ‘you need to bathe. You can’t sleep like this, you’ll wake up feeling rotten.’

Noct grumbled and tried to roll over; Ignis stopped him before he rolled straight into a puddle of his own come. With a roll of his eyes that served no one but himself, Ignis scooped Noct up – a task that was getting harder and harder as the man grew older – and carried him through to the bathroom, where he gently lowered him into the water, and began helping him clean off.

‘Lemme sleep,’ said Noct after a few moments, waving Ignis away, and Ignis obliged, taking the opportunity to step out and strip the bed, wrapping the sheets in plastic bags from the side table. When he returned, Noct was dozing, skin red from the heat of the water. Ignis took a seat beside him, stroking his thick black hair. He would always be there when Noct woke up.

It took about an hour this time, before Noct’s eyes opened again, and he blinked, a little fuzzy around the edges. ‘Thanks,’ he managed to say, giving Ignis a shy smile.

Ignis returned the smile, though less shyly. ‘Let’s get you dried off and into bed – a clean bed, I should say. Perhaps some hot chocolate?’

‘What about the dinner?’ asked Noct, a small frown on his brow.

Ignis shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Your comfort matters, today of all days.’

‘That’s what you always say before you make me put the damn thing back on,’ said Noct.

Ignis’s smile faded a little. ‘Yes, it is unfortunate. But you know I’ll always be here to help you, don’t you Noct?’

‘Counting on it,’ Noct replied, letting Ignis help him up out of the bath, looking forward to fresh sheets and some hot chocolate, if not to having his cock locked back up again for another long week. Still, at least Ignis would be there, loyal and efficient as ever. You took what you could get, when you were the crown prince.


End file.
